


Relapse

by MinkaMouse



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Past Drug Use
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 19:25:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11386800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MinkaMouse/pseuds/MinkaMouse
Summary: Jason Todd was her lifeline and when he died, she felt like she had as well.But then she didn't.Unfortunately.Now, all Suri wants is to be able to see him again, but now that he's right in front of her, she doesn't recognize him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This work was originally posted on my fanfiction.net account (under the username AnimeFlowerGirl) and I figured I should post it here as well :)
> 
> I only own what I own.

Whenever Suri Mallory stuck the needle into her arm or shoved the pills down her throat and closed her eyes, she saw him and she was happy.

He was younger than her now - he had been for a couple of years - but she did not mind. Seeing him this way, in perpetual youth, comforted her.

At least in her mind, he was safe. He was alive.

When she opened her eyes, the drug now flowing in her system, he was there. His dark hair was tousled, brushing against his forehead, and his bright eyes were serious but she could see the mischievous twinkle in them. He always tried to look and act tough, like the world had scorned him - _and it has_ , but she knew better. She knew that deep down, he cared. He cared about her, about people. He was loyal, selfless.

Tonight, he was not smiling. She hoped that he would be, it was a rare sight to see, but she guessed that she just was not lucky right now. Every time she saw him, he wore a different expression on his face. Sometimes, his mouth would quirk upwards in a smirk while other times - the times that she was lucky - the corners of his mouth would soften and his smirk would turn into a smile. Those two were her favorite, she thought that they fit him well, but most of the time all she ever got from him was a scowl.

It was like he was disappointed in her.

Suri was not surprised, though. If he were with her right now, actually with her, he would not be happy. She had succumbed to the bad habits that they swore they would not turn to. They did not want to be like their parents. They had promised themselves that no matter how hard life got, and life got _really_ hard, they would not run away from their problems the same way they did.

But he was gone and so the promise was forfeited and she ran.

She was now the same height as him. She had thought that he would always be taller than her. She imagined that he would always be big enough to shield her, protect her, but the boy she saw in front of her was, well, a boy. They could look each other in the eye without straining either of their necks.

Whenever they looked at each other, really looked at each other, she saw that he always looked disappointed, sad even. The corners of his lips did not need to turn down for her to see that.

It had been so long.

Suri could no longer remember the last time she _did not_ see him. She had become dependent, lost in her own mind. Sometimes she would wake up in places she had never been to before, in rooms and in beds who did not recognize with people she did not know and would not see again.

She used to wake up confused, scared, but now it had become a sort of routine for her. It was an easy routine to follow. It only had two steps:

1\. Wake up and take the drug  
2\. Repeat Step 1

After the effects kicked in, the events that happened after were a blur to her, nothing but a dream that would fade within the first few minutes of being awake. All she could focus on was him. Everything else around her, the people and the places, were nothing but passing images. Nothing relevant. Minor details.

Suri knew that she had been taken advantage off. She had woken up several times in the middle of their acts but all they needed to do was drug her again and she was no longer fighting to keep them off of her. If they were nice, they would leave a couple of bills for her before they left. Suri did not know what she did with the money.

It had taken Suri a while to realize that she was awake. Like, _really_ awake. She already felt her hands reach out to look for her bag. She could not afford to not see him. She sat up from the bed and felt the blanket that was wrapped around her chest fall. She looked down.

She was naked.

Unfazed, she pulled the sheets back up to cover herself as she scanned the room for both her purse and the man who had taken her to what she assumed was his room. She hoped that he was nice and would take her back to where he had found her. She was never really good with direction.

Suri did not find her bag after a quick survey of the room but she did see two men. It was hard to miss them. She was a little bit surprised but could not say that it has not happened before.

A few seconds passed before Suri realized that the men were not in bed with her (as they often were if not redressing). In fact, one of them was on the floor, unconscious. His eyes had rolled to the back of his head and his mouth was agape, droll pooling under his cheek. When Suri squinted at him, her eyes adjusting to the darkness of the room, she swore that there was blood on his face. Maybe his nose was broken.

The second man was fully covered from head to toe. Even in the dark, Suri could see that he was wearing a black top that hugged his torso nicely, dark pants, and boots. He was wearing a brown leather jacket as well.

If he were wearing _just_ that, Suri would not think twice about him but this was man was strange. On his black shirt, he had a red symbol painted on it, it sort of resembled a bat, and on his head, he wore a red helmet. Okay, Suri thought to herself, trying to rationalize the man's attire, maybe he was not _that_ strange. Maybe he had driven a motorcycle and just could not be bothered to remove his helmet but - wait - were those _guns_ hanging from his hips? Suri could not believe that she did not notice those first.

Now, she was scared.

"Are you okay?" the man asked, startling her. Suri gripped the sheet closer to her body. The room suddenly felt really cold.

"Where's...where's my bag?" Suri found herself asking because after processing her surroundings, she found that she still did not know where her bag was and she needed _it_. It has been too long since she had seen him. He might be lost forever if she did not act quickly.

The man took a step closer to her. "I asked you a question."

She knew that. She heard him, but frankly, she had her own priorities.

"I'll be okay when I have my bag."

Suri didn't know what to feel in this kind of situation. Was she supposed to be okay? She only knew how to feel when she could not feel anything at all.

Another scan of the room did not help her in her search for her bag so she decided to get out of the bed. She made a move to stand up and the moment her feet touched the ground, she fell.

It seemed like she had forgotten how to walk. Her legs felt numb and it hurt to move them. She almost felt like crying.

Suri could not bear to look up at the man in the room. Although she (literally) could not see his face, she felt his stare. He was judging her. She was embarrassing.

From the floor, Suri could not see her bag anywhere but she did find her shoes. She reached for them and somehow found a way to put them on her feet without the blanket sliding off of her. She thought about what she was wearing before she was brought to bed by the unknown man. Did she wear pants or shorts? A skirt or a dress? Would she have to walk out of there in nothing but a sheet and sneakers?

A pair of denim shorts landed in front of her, tearing her out of her thoughts, and she looked up to see the man's back facing her. He seemed to be looking around the room as well and Suri was thankful. When she looked inside one of the back pockets, she found her underwear.

Quickly, she slipped it on, accidentally banging her head on the bedside table when she leant back and lifted her bum. She ignored the man's question of whether or not she was alright and she tried to stand up again. Suri wobbled but stayed on her feet. The blanket hung over her shoulders now and she held it together with her hands.

Suri moved around the room and saw that her purse was neither on the study desk nor on the vanity desk. She did see ripped fabric hanging over a chair and frowned when she found out that it was her shirt. Suri found her bra soon after and was glad that it was mostly in one piece.

"Here," the man said, handing her his jacket. He was looking elsewhere and Suri took this as her chance to drop the blanket and slip on his jacket. It was warm and heavy and smelled faintly of cigarettes.

"Do you really need your bag?" He asked. "What does it even look like?"

"I think it's a backpack," Suri offered quietly. She did not actually remember. "Maybe a sling bag?"

"You don't remember?" The man snapped, annoyed.

"I don't remember a lot of things," Suri fired back, tense because it had been _too long_ and _he_ was fading away. "I'm sorry." She did not want him mad at her. He had guns.

The man did not say anything and moved to the opposite side of the room. Suri felt guilty. She tried to look inside the cabinet but saw nothing but suits, tailored pants, and ties. She also saw white shirts and thought about stealing one but decided against it. The cabinet and and everything in it smelled like detergent and she preferred the scent of cigarettes.

"Hey, is this it?" The man asked, holding up a bright yellow backpack upside down. The flap opened and everything inside spilled out. He swore loudly and bent down to pick up the fallen objects. He found a mirror, a toothbrush, mascara, a tampon (he tossed that into the bag quickly), and her drugs. The needle and the pills. He didn't put them back in her bag.

"You won't be needed these," he said coldly, crushing them in the palm of his hands before dropping them to the floor and promptly stomping on them with his heavy foot.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Suri screamed as she ran and dropped to her knees in front of him. They were useless now - crushed and shattered and broken. She looked back at the man and she had tears running down her cheeks. "You asshole! Do you have any idea what you've done?!"

"I saved your life." The man answered. He grabbed a hold of her arm and dragged her out of the room. Suri could not do anything but follow him. He was stronger than her.

"You've killed him!" She could not keep her voice down and, frankly, she did not want to. Who knew what he could hear through his helmet?

"Killed _who_?" The man asked, his voice rose as well. Anger radiated from him bit Suri was no longer scared. Right now, she had nothing to lose.

" _Him!_ "

" _Him? Him_ who?"

"Jason!" Suri sobbed because when she tried to picture his face, she couldn't. " _Jason Todd!_ "


	2. Chapter 2

It was over, or, at least, that was what Suri thought.

She had never felt like this before because she had never been without it, without him, before.

The first few days were hell. She could not stop her hands from shaking. They wanted it. Every which way she looked, her hands reached out, looking for it. But it was not here anymore.

He was not not here anymore.

Suri felt like she was dying.

Not what what he (the masked man) or she did, she could not stop sweating.

When the sweating finally stopped, she could not move.

Her head spun whenever she got out of bed and it hurt to lift her arms and legs. He had thought it was the flu, but they knew better. This was not happening because she was sick. Or, at least, sick in that way.

They fought.

Suri always thought she was a patient person - she remembered being patient - but because of recent events, she could not help but snap at him which, in turn, made him snap right back at her. They had screaming matches that only ever ended when she cried, sputtering out apologies.

She thought that she was going crazy and she was sure that he thought that she was, too.

But between the two of the, he was the one parading around Gotham in a red helmet and a bat painted on his chest. Really, he was the crazy one.

Suri missed him when he left, though.

After all, it was just the two of them living in his apartment. It was a decent size apartment, good for two people in live in comfortably. He had his room and she had hers. They had to share a bathroom thought, but they never had to wait on each other. She showered in the middle of the day (when she woke up) and he did it in the middle of the night or in the wee hours of the morning.

Suri wondered if it was a good idea to be living with him. She did not know the man and she could see that he was dangerous with his large build and collection of weapons. If he were to get mad and attack her, Suri would not know how to defend herself. But, if she were to leave him, she would have nowhere to go. She did not remember having a home before he had saved. In fact, she could not remember a lot of things. Years under the influence had left a gaping hole in her memory.

She guessed she should be grateful. The man had helped her and given her a roof over her head without asking for anything in return. He also kept her company, which she found slightly odd considering he did not seem like the type who enjoyed being with other people.

Everyday, for about an hour after her shower, when her hair was stuck to her face and soaked the back of her shirt, they would sit together on his living room sofa. He would read his books (he had an admirable bookshelf in the middle of his living room) while she would try to draw him. Sometimes they would talk, he would recommend her something to read and she would tell him to sit a certain way so that she would have a new angle of him to draw. They found comfort in each other's presence.

The sketch pad he gave her was filled with sketches of him and his apartment. She did not see much else.

She could not remember the last time she had been outside. Now that her head was (mostly) clear, she could see all the things that she had missed the past few years. She really missed the sky and looking out the window just did not do it justice. He would not let her leave though. She was not better yet and he could not risk her walking out on her own.

Suri suggested that he go with her (because she actually did not know where they were and she knew she would get lost) but her reminded her that he would only draw unwanted attention if he strolled down the streets in his get up.

His helmet.

She had gotten so used to seeing his face concealed that she had forgotten that she had never actually seen his fac before. Of course, he did not always wear his helmet around the apartment, she imagined that he would be in a really rotten mood if he did. When he took the helmet off, he would replace it with a domino mask to cover his eyes. She did not expect suck a flimsy thing to hide his identity the way it did.

But then again, she did not even know who he was so what was there to lose if he showed her his face?

* * *

Tonight, Suri realized that she had somehow gotten into the habit of waiting for him to come home. She did not do it on purpose. She just found herself unable to fall asleep most nights. That, and she was restless - really, really restless. She could not sit still. She paced from one side of her room to the other and when she stubbed her toe on her dresser, she paced the entire apartment, going from the entrance to the door of his room.

Suri has prepared herself a bowl of cereal and ate half of it. She washed the dishes and checked the refrigerator to see if anything inside had expired. After, she disappeared into her room and brought out her sketch pad.

Closing her eyes, she thought about him. The boy. She could see the shape of his face and the clothes on his back, but his face...she could not picture his face. When Suri tried, it was like someone had smudged his features away with the palm of their hands, mixing all the colors together. She felt an ache in her chest as she drew an outline of him. He stood with his shoulders square and his hands in his pockets. Stiff. She figured she would be tense, too, if she did not have a face.

Sometimes Suri wonders if he was real. She stared at the corner of the room and she could almost see him standing there. Almost. When she tried to focus on him, he disappeared. It was like he was a dream that she could not hold onto once she woke up.

Suri thought about running away. She thought about what would happen if she took it again. She liked the idea of seeing him again. All she ever wanted was to see him, but... the man would be man. She knew that he would find her and... she did not want him to be angry with her. She did not know why yet.

She felt a tear run down her cheek as she looked down at her drawing. A faceless boy. She could not seem to remember his name so now he was nameless as well.

Upset, Suri walked out of her room and into the kitchen area. She thought about sitting on the bar stools while waiting for the man but when she got there, she saw that he was already home. His helmet, jacket, and shirt were on the kitchen table along with a large white box - a first aid kit. His back was to her and saw that not only was it bleeding but it was also covered in scars. Some were small and fading, others were long and screaming for attention.

Suri walked up to him and placed her hand on his back, she had forgotten the concept of "personal space."

The man jumped in his seat and his hands automatically went down to the guns hanging on his hips. Suri realized her mistake too late and thought that maybe tonight was the night she was going to die.

She felt a sense of calm wash over her at that thought.


End file.
